His Unrequited Love

Bad Decisions

Victor

There is something familiar about the young guy checking me out with big puppy eyes from across the bar. He is sprawled on his chair, looking so out of place as he slowly sips from his obviously not so good beer. The flinch he makes every time he takes a gulp out of that bottle looks too hot for his own good and draws out a chuckle out of me. I almost feel sympathetic towards him, almost. Did he really expect to get something better at a place like this? People don’t visit this bar for the high quality of the drinks that are being served around here.

I shift my gaze away from him, trying for casual, but almost failing as I am pretty sure he caught me looking back. But then again, I came out here to hunt, and that guy? He looks like the perfect prey for tonight. He is not my usual type - too clean and pretty, and sassy, but a second later as I stare openly at him like I want to eat him up because I really do, I just can’t help myself.

He looks kind of lost, shaken, even if those big eyes of his seem full of defiance and c*ockiness. His too fashionable clothes and perfectly tanned skin are not the standards for bars like this. No, people who look like they just walked out from the cover of a fashion magazine don’t come here ever. Yet here he is, willing, delicious, ready for the taking.

I lick my lips slowly as I look away not even trying to fight the grin that blossoms on my face. The fact he caught me staring for a second time tonight only pumps more adrenaline in my veins. Damn, he looks… perfect. Tall, lean, wiry. His light brown, almost blond hair, is cut in a way that only brings more attention to his sharp hazel eyes, which are hypnotizing me even from the distance between us. And that angular face of his? High cheekbones and a pointed chin that gives him an almost elfish look. Almost, as the wickedness in his stare reminds me more of the evil spirits roaming around the desert at night. Then again, those plump lips of his would look just ideally flushed when they are wrapped around my c*ock.

That guy looks like sin itself, come to tempt me and distract me exactly when I need it. God, the things I suddenly want to do to him are too despicable to be said out loud. Would he even be into my kind of play? But somehow, and especially when he finally catches me looking back for the third time, those lips of his stretch into a dirty little smile, and I feel my skin crawl with gooseflesh.

“You like what you see?” The stranger drags, the challenge clear in his low husky voice, one perfectly looking brow raised in question at me.

I smirk at him before I slide off my stool and approach him, my drink in hand.

“Maybe I do,” I reply with the voice I know for a fact that brings people to their knees for me. We are shoulder to shoulder at the bar now and I can finally trace the pattern of the large black tattoo which is gripping his entire throat and is sliding down somewhere beneath his v-neck loose shirt.

Goddess, that skin of his is just too tempting and I can barely hold myself from the sudden need to touch him, to trace my fingers up and down his throat and check for myself if it is really as smooth as it looks. Golden, inked, not a blemish in sight. Suddenly I imagine myself tracing his sharp jaw with my tongue while I squeeze that sexy throat of his until he starts begging me for air while I plunge deep into him. The perfect distraction from my dark thoughts indeed. How I will enjoy ripping out that tight neckless with the colorful stones which so perfectly contrast with the black ink on his skin. I can almost hear the stones scattering all over the floor as I rip it out, the sound mesmerizing in my mind.

As he stares back at me, his tongue darts out to wet his lips and I almost go wild at the view. My eyes widen at the same moment my d*ick hardens. God, I have never been so horny for someone I’ve never met before. Then again, I’ve never been in such a desperate need to find something to distract me during the sleepless night I know waits for me back in my hotel room. Maybe that’s why I am almost ready to beg him to come with me and let me f*uck him into oblivion.

“Then, what are you going to do about it?” the stranger asks and the blood literally starts boiling in my veins.

My lips stretch in a c*ocky smile. He’s not only hot but also brave. Shameless even. I like that even more than I want to admit.

“It depends. Do you plan to finish drinking this piss?” I shift my gaze toward the sorry-looking bottle of beer in front of him.

“Hate this s*hit,” he says casually, and this time I can’t pretend I missed the way he dragged his tongue to wet his lips again, or that I didn’t see the barbell piercing his tongue flashing before my eyes at the motion.

“What’s your name?” I ask even though it’s not that I really need to know. I just need to call him something rather than just ‘he’ because I am cheesy like that even at this age and with everything I’ve been through. Yes, I will forget that name the moment he leaves my room come morning but still, some part of me needs to keep things at least a bit proper. Like it’s even possible to be proper about a casual hookup in a bar in the middle of nowhere.

Something flashes in his expressive eyes. Something that again seems vaguely familiar but I can’t quite wrap my mind around it. It’s not like I’ve met him before - he looks at least ten years younger than me and seems like he comes from the big city, not some gods forgotten town on the outskirts of the countryside.

As we play a staring game once more, he stands taller on his stool suddenly, almost defensive. A second later he swallows back whatever it was that he was about to say, and I trace the bob of his Adam’s apple under his inc-covered skin with hungry eyes.

“Just call me Joe,” he tells me, his gaze searching for something on my face but failing to find it, whatever it is, and his shoulders slump a little. God, he is so hot I can barely think of anything but him. Good. That’s exactly what I needed tonight. Distraction. A pretty little thing to keep me occupied until I am back to controlling my emotions.

“You are no Joe, Joe,” I reply, almost laughing. Almost. I haven’t laughed in a long time and I am not sure if I want to start just now, or if I remember how to do it properly. Smiling has stopped being my thing for a long, long time.

“Then what am I? Tell me, who do I look like to you?” He asks, his tone playful even if his gaze remains guarded. He seems playful but… alert? Is that even possible?

I shrug studying him for a while longer, my lips stretching in one of my non-smiles.

“Elliot? Maxim? Yeah, Maxim suits you perfectly well.” My lips curl into another content smile that never reaches my eyes or my heart for that matter - it is the smile of the predator ready to close in on his prey, that’s just part of the game. Make them see what they want to, make them believe you are not dead inside so that they will trust you enough to come with you and let you f*uck them. A mask I have worn for so long it has become like a second skin for me.

“Then I am Maxim,” he replies shrugging back with a sigh, a mask of his own on that handsome face of his.

“Wanna get out of here, Maxim?” I ask him suggestively and he shrugs again. Suggestively.

A second later and he slips off his stool, the disgusting beer forgotten on the counter.

“And where are we going?” He lifts that eyebrow again at me and I shudder at the view.

“I’m staying at a hotel nearby for business,” I tell him the truth. He doesn’t exactly need to know what this business is anyway.

He laughs, cynically. He is completely aware of what stands behind my offer and he seems more than ready to play with me and follow the rules of my game.

The next second he turns his back on me as he takes his brown leather bag and walks out of the bar, me following him just a foot behind.

“How should I call you?” ‘Maxim’ asks turning to look at me over his shoulder.

I smirk at him and look away before telling him my name. Victor. I always tell them my real name. It’s not like it matters anyway. Just like me, he’ll forget all about it when the new day comes to light.

“Are you a serial killer, Victor?” His full sensual lips turn into a lopsided grin as he asks the question and I burst out laughing at the absurd suggestion. He is right to be wary, of course - after all, we have not met each other before, but there is something in the way he says it as if he knows exactly what I am and what I am not and he is just teasing me right now. And for some reason being teased by him feels quite alright.

“No, I am not a serial killer,” I reply and a second later I take his hand in mine in order to lead him faster to the hotel.

He seems startled for a second

He stops in his tracks and his hazel eyes focus on where our hands are joined, sudden hesitation written all over his face. I stumble at my steps as he just stands there and I have to turn to face him again, suddenly worried he might not want to do this after all.

I don’t let go. I am not one to back away this easily and as I wait for him to take his decision, I squeeze gently, confident it will relax him. I don’t want him to get scared all of a sudden and miss my opportunity. The alternative is staying the night alone after I failed, again, at standing in the way of my ex and reasoning with him to lift my ban and let me visit my own land and family. I need this young eager man’s body in order to distract me enough I will believe for a brief moment that I am not the total and complete failure I know I am.

“Your hotel you were saying?” Maxim prompts me and nods towards the one-storey building at the end of the road.

For a second my eyes dart to the way his neck extends, and how the pattern of his dark tattoo stretches over his skin with the movement. My head is suddenly filled with images of my tongue tracing that pattern. Or my c*ock sinking down that throat as I f*uck his face to oblivion. He is going to sound so good stretched all around me, coughing and spitting and begging me for more.

Right now he only nods and follows me in the direction I am ready to lead him.

As we walk together I discover he is about my height, even if more slender than me. For some reason I expected him to be shorter but then again, I have no idea why. I like how he looks strong enough to take all I can give him and how dirty-minded he actually looks - there is no false innocence glued to him. No. He seems free and completely confident in himself, of his desires. All those hard edges and seductive smirks, all the suggestion in his wide hazel eyes. And, goddess, those eyes!

For a second, as I look back at him, those f*uck me eyes of his are all I can focus on. We are out in the open right now, in the middle of the empty street with the string of street lights and the sky fading to black above our heads. The full moon is out already, its silver disk casting a ghostly glow on everything around us. The air is filled with that lingering early summer heat that the breeze slowly tries to blow away, but it is still there and somehow I am more than ever aware of everything that surrounds us. Maxim’s gaze looks haunting right now - deep and glowing, mesmerizing me with the brown and green and grey inside.

“You gonna look at me all night or take me somewhere and f*uck me, big boy?” He asks as I seem lost for a second. His voice does the trick and I am back to myself, cursing at that stupid treat of mine where I have to over analyze everyone I ever meet.

“Oh, I am going to f*uck you, alright,” I tell him, giving him a c*ocky smirk of my own and as I pull him towards me once more, I spot it again - that momentarily gleam deep into his eyes that look almost too familiar, almost too intimate. It’s like a phrase you need at the moment and it’s at the tip of your tongue but just can’t seem to wrap your mind around.

Waving my stupid thoughts off, I take him to my room.

The moment we reach the door, all thoughts and worries leave my head. I am on in the hunt and I am already tasting my prize. With my free hand, I take the keys out of my pocket and after rolling them between my fingers, I unlock the door and let him in.

The room is dark and there is a faint smell of mold in the air. The walls are painted some dull grey color and the carpet seems ragged and as if it’s been bleached at some point. There is nothing of value inside that room, nothing personal. All I took with me on this trip is the contents of a small duffel bag I left in the small battered bathroom. Places like this are not my usual go-to when I travel but in this god-forsaken town, I was unable to find anything better. Also, it’s not like I planned on staying or having company anyway. It’s not my home and it will never be. Nowhere is.

Maxim doesn’t seem to mind the interior of my humble quarters. The moment the door closes behind us and I switch the lights on, he turns to face me, dropping his bag on the floor.

I find myself pinned between him and the door and a bolt of anticipation runs through my body the moment my d*ick twitches with attention for the first time tonight. I give Maxim a dirty smile and push myself off, using little strength to turn us and change our positions.

Something stirs inside my chest. A deep voice from within tries to talk to me through the haze ruling inside my head but I ignore it.

Listen to me! Lorkan, my wolf, grumbles in my head. I ignore him again, shutting the link between us once again. We are not on good terms, me and the wolf spirit that makes me into something else than a regular loser on the road chasing after his ex after so many years. Thanks to my wolf I am a lycan loser on the road chasing his ex. I don’t talk to him, I don’t acknowledge him or listen to what he has to say anymore. After everything that happened, I just can’t. It is his fault we are in the position that we are - homeless, lost, with nothing to ground us anywhere we go, no one to keep us warm for longer than a night, sometimes just a few hours here and there.

So, I shut him off behind the mental wall I have put between us, as I usually do, and focus on the hot body beside me - anything to distract me from the hole in my heart and the screaming pain of missing Lorkan so damn much all the damn time.

I pin Maxim to the door, the tattooed fingers on his right hand wrapping around my wrist as I squeeze his throat lightly before I press myself to him and kiss him like I own him.